And thus, we find ourselves conducted inexorably toward Saturday.
We woke up with just the baby and no twins; they were off in another city with my parents at an antique show (it sounds bad, but they share the family passion for old junk, so they love it.)
My wife loves garage sales, and today our town had a townwide sale, so we put the baby in the car and took off. We found a few bargains, talked, laughed . . . it was nice. There was also a small car show in town on our little town square, near our home. We went home, put the baby down for a little while, then went back out to walk our own neighborhood with the stroller. Then we walked uptown together, bought our lunch from the Knights of Columbus, and walked around the car show together. Nothing huge, just enjoying what was on offer together. Later we went home and drove into the nearby big town to do a little political work that was important to me--my wife had volunteered the day before to come into town with me, and again, I was a little surprised, but happy to have her join me. We ended up at the mall again (more time than I've spent in that mall in the last year , but it worked out.) We got the baby his first haircut, then I took him to the playzone while my wife got her long hair cut short. I like her hair long, but I figure she doesn't need me to be so dominant that I forbid her to cut her hair, so I told her the truth when she asked how it looked: "You're beautiful." (I'm not flattering her, she really is. I said I found her irresistible awhile back, and somebody posted that I should think about why that is. Seriously? She's hot.)
Then I took her to our favorite Thai place for dinner. I did not ask where she wanted to go, because that never works. It goes one of two ways:
1. She has no idea, and she punts it back to me: "I don't know. What do you want?" or
2. She says, "I don't know, where do you want to go?" "OK, how about India House?" "I don't like that Indian food. I'm allergic to too much of it." "OK, how about La Cucaracha?" "No, I had Mexican last week." "Uh . . . OK . . . so where does that leave?" Followed by her choosing the restaurant.
So this time, I simply said our favorite Thai place was open and we'd go there. She objected that we might not find anything for the baby to eat there. I replied that we'd stop and get him some chicken nuggets (guaranteed toddler-food) and repeated that I wanted to take her to our place. She relented. We had a great dinner together. We'd been continuing to kiss like lovers all day, and I'd been dropping hints that I'd like more. Now I told her as much--we'd go home, get the boys, put everyone to bed, and then I'd like us to go to bed early. She first told me she'd be too tired. I told her I thought it was no good to decide at 6:00 that you will definitely not be in the mood at 10:00. She countered "How about I say maybe?"
Again, I was actually just going for broke. Maybe sounded fine to me, and I told her that. I've long thought of "maybe" as meaning no, and honestly, I still think it usually did during our marriage so far, but I'm trying to take her at face value as much as possible, so I tried to assume that "maybe" meant "maybe." Well, we went home, got the boys, and tried to get the boys to bed, but they were hopped up from their trip and stalled and hemmed and hawed until we forced them to bed. I put the baby to bed while my wife finished with the boys, and by the time we were both in the bedroom we were tired, no doubt about it. We had talked during the afternoon (after "maybe") about Davis' idea that we should "just do it." It made sense to both of us, because she's that spouse in the book--if you happen to catch her willing, she makes love like a freight train and seems to enjoy it as much as I do, which is saying something. I say "seems" because I used to wonder every time whether she was faking. How could someone who enjoyed sex that much, I wondered, hate the idea of sex so much when she wasn't having it? I think I get it now . . . . maybe.
Anyway, I kissed her, I touched certain parts of her legs and back that she loves, I played in her new short hair, but all was for nought. When it was clear she wasn't responding, I asked her how she felt. She told me she felt bad, because I was trying to kiss her and help her get into the mood, but she was "laying here cranky and tired and not even trying." Now, not to sound selfish, but this is something else I don't completely get. If she's metacognitively aware enough to tell me that she's not really trying to "just do it" and she actually wanted to make an effort, then why not just go ahead and make the effort? Who's stopping her?
Anyway, I didn't say that. I again told the truth, but did it without saying directly everything I was thinking.
I told her: 1. She couldn't get discouraged too easily, because it might take a long time to make much difference. 2. I wasn't angry at her (which was true, I wasn't.) 3. I'm not demanding sex every night; I just want her to think about it, because I want there to be some chance on an average night that maybe we might make love.
So, that made her cry and hug me and that was nice. I'm really not angry at her, but am I disappointed? Well, I'm on the internet at 2:30 in the morning my time, so that probably tells you everything you need to know about that. And now I'm going to bed.
